A pinch of this and a dash of that
by thena-ditey
Summary: 10 song Ipod drabble-y thing. T for some cursing and drug use. Spoilers-ish for seasons 1-3.


*****10 song Ipod drabble-thingie. My muse is stuck in traffic, so I figured I'd try to coax her along with a bit o' fun. I cheated a bit; I let the song start, paused it to refresh my memory of the lyrics and then began writing. Sadly I do not own these characters or the music, but it is fun to mix and match. Enjoy. *****

**Chantilly Lace- The Big Bopper**

Raph's grin spread slowly across his face at Mary's suggestion. They could leave the talking for later, now was the time to engage in his favorite past time, outside of baseball that is. Dios Mio, he loved it when she used that tone and posed just so. She seemed to know just how to catch the light to make her eyes gleam so devilishly.

A night in sounded great to him, too.

**The Roller- Beady Eye**

Mary wondered, not for the first time, whose brilliant idea it had been to stick her undercover in this op. She knew that Marshall was outside listening to this ridiculous conversation as she painted nails and played with hair as the young sorority girls bonded with their new "matron". She knew that at least one of them had to be involved with the high profile case, but figuring out which one was going to be a pain in the ass as long as she had to keep up this shallow front and her mouth closed.

"Ricky offered to buy me that new coach bag if I'll go with him to his parent's dinner party in the Hamptons this weekend. I told him no way unless it was Prada." Britney rolled her eyes at Ricky's feeble attempt at bribery. The other girls either cooed at her or nodded their approval at her upping the ante. Mary mentally rolled her eyes, not for the first time this evening. They'd have rolled out of her head by now if she had allowed the impulse to actually let them roll. Granted if she'd allowed that, then she'd have told these girls all how very much she enjoyed their company and gotten herself kicked off the case. She could just imagine the crap Marshall would be giving her other next few months. Her nails were pink, for chrissakes.

**Two Against One – Danger Mouse**

Mary grabbed her keys, badge and gun as she stormed out of the house and pealed out of the drive way heading to the nearest bar for a much needed shot. The latest in Shannon family fights had reached a peak tonight and she could stand no more. Raph had had to gall to say that she had no right to make a decision on whether he could fix the walls. He, Jinx and Brandi had decided. They outnumbered her and he'd fix it if he wanted to, dammit. What he couldn't seem to wrap his tiny little mind around was that it was her freaking house and her freaking decision. She considered calling ABQPD and having them all arrested for trespassing. Let them spend the night in jail while she tossed their crap on the lawn. Where did they get off demanding that she not have a say in her own home? What the hell had they been smoking to think that she would just idly stand by while her family went against her express wishes? Tomorrow they'd be finding new living arrangements, the lot of them. That is if she allowed any of them actually lived through the night.

**Underneath the Sycamore- Death Cab of Cutie**

Marshall held her as her shoulders shook. He could feel her tears on his chest, warm and wet. He had no idea what to say to make it better, instead rubbing useless circles on her back as she sobbed her pain away. Marshall's mind was jumbled with what he knew. Mary had told him about the letters, the fears and the frustration of looking for her father. He had helped her with the search, hoping that even if they did not find him that it would represent closure for her and allow her to finally move on. The search through the WITSEC database had produced little and that had worried him a bit. He had agreed to contact Rabbi Finkle, the man that had found their witness Avi regardless of where they had hid him, and the resulting information had shocked them both. The trip to Maryland was their final stop in this journey and Marshall knew that it would cause more pain for his beloved. Mary had lived with the hope of reconciliation or at the very least revenge for many years and now even that had been taken from her. Now she would be stuck with the what if's and might have been's, regrets that would haunt her. He looked up as the leaves of the tree above them swayed in the light breeze, dappling glimmers of light across the grave stone of James Shannon's neatly tended plot.

**Faster- Matt Nathanson**

It felt as if he had been pierced with a bright, hot light. The pleasure spinning through Marshall was on the tip of pain for the fierceness of it as it rushed in his veins. Kissing Mary was the sweetest thing, the most wonderful of agonies. He could kiss her until the world ended and he'd go smiling. This kiss felt as it had the first time, as it had on their honeymoon, on their 10th wedding anniversary; it never got old and it never would. Mary wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, laughing. The look in her eyes made the blood roar in his head and he grinned at her. They heard the giggling and turned to see their grandchildren playing in the yard, the dogs chasing them blissfully through the sprinklers. Marshall was ever glad that his patience had paid off.

**No Harm- The Boxer Rebellion**

Mary sat in her silent living room with her feet on the coffee table. Gone was the sound her family's bickering. Gone was the clutter. There was nothing left to distract her from her own thoughts any more. Marshall had offered her messy. What could she do with that? Running had always been her fall back option. Running from being hurt, rejecting first before they left her. They always left her. _But here's the thing_, she thought, _Marshall has never left me. He's been there to pick me up after everything else has gone to crap._ He'd helped her rebuild. Maybe she could at least entertain the idea, at least over a tumbler of scotch. What would it feel like to be with Marshall? She wondered, could it be as easy as everything else was with him? He had her back as much as she had his. A relationship wouldn't change that level of trust, would it? But she worried that her fear would make her pick at it, at him until one or both of them broke. She knew that the darker voice in her mind would never really go away. It had been fed and watered by 30 years of abandonment and rejection. It was too big a dragon to be slain, even if her white knight was willing. Maybe there was a way to tame this dragon, as he had tamed her. He had called her his exotic animal and he her keeper. Granted, it had taken him the better half of a decade to tame her, but she knew he was the patient type. Setting down the tumbler of scotch she reached for the phone. It was time to be brave and to take a chance.

**Skip the Charades- Cold War Kids**

Marshall sat in his living room listening to the rain as it hit the window pane. It seemed almost as if the earth wept with him. He had laid it out for Mary tonight. He had stopped himself from mentioning that he loved her, but that was only because he had literally bit his tongue. He had scared her away. She'd run now, he knew. All of this time, all of his careful plans and he'd lost it all with one damned slip of the tongue. It had felt good to get it out there and actually manifest his feelings, but the entire time he spoke he was kicking himself. He had watched the fear glaze her eyes as he'd spoken and had felt his heart break as she snatched at the life line that was Stan walking through the office as an escape. She was gone. He'd held hope for so long and it was over. He wanted desperately to call her all evening after she had slipped out the door. He knew though, that she'd see that as him being clingy and she'd brush him off like dust on her clothes. Reaching for the bottle of scotch and ignoring the shot glass next to it, he mused on his possible future. If she didn't transfer, he'd have to consider it. He would not go without her stating in plain terms that she didn't want him there anymore, but he suspected that would happen when she came back from her vacation. He'd made a promise and unless she released him from it, he wouldn't leave. The ringing of his phone broke into his thoughts. Reaching for it automatically, he was shocked to see her name on the caller ID. Blowing out a breath and praying for courage, he answered her call.

**Hunting Season- The Epilogues **

The pain didn't hit her until after the force of the bullet took her legs from under her. It had felt as she'd been hit by a train. She saw Dershowitz' face change from concerned to terrified as she fell backward. She felt her limbs grow cold and her mind fade to black; her last real, clear thought was of Marshall. She immediately felt regret for every wrong she'd done him, ignoring his tacit offer of love and trust for the safety of control. With Marshall, she'd lost all of her control and had to fight her urges to just share the burden. She had backed herself into a corner with Raph knowing that no matter what happened Raph had no more control in their relationship than a coaster. She felt horrible for putting them both through such a tumult. If only she could fix it, she'd give anything for one more chance. But the black pulled down no matter how much she clawed and screamed against it. Before the darkness swallowed her she heard Dershowitz yelling her name.

**Milieu- Beats Antique**

Jinx felt the pull of the music in her blood. She had deadened herself to it with alcohol for so long that she had forgotten how compelling it could be. She could no sooner fight this than stop the rain. She threw herself into the beat, allowing her body to do as it would. Twists, turns, leaps. They all came back to her as naturally as breathing and she gloried in it. This is what had been missing for so long in her life. That ache could be filled with sweat and song. Finishing her routine, she bowed before the owner of the dance studio. Smiling triumphantly, she stalked out on long dancer's legs.

**Cough Syrup- Young the Giant**

_Just one more._ Brandi thought as she opened the chest at the end of her bed and unzipped her luggage. She wondered, not for the first time, why she had first tried the meth in her bag. Curiosity? She had heard all of the horror stories about drug abuse and had avoided it before then. The thrill of danger? She _had_ always taken a perverse pleasure in doing what she wasn't supposed to. Regardless of the original reason the pull of the drug brought her back, again and again. She had noticed the tear in the bag the day she had arrived at Mary's and couldn't stop herself from at least seeing what all of the fuss was about. The high that followed was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She had passed the time between each small helping anxious to feel that same way again. She had started getting edgier the longer she tried to go between doses. She didn't know the lingo; she was no druggie. She could quit. But it was so hard, the life of Brandi Shannon. There was always so much pressure; from Chuck about the buy, Mary to leave Chuck and get a job. It was too much; she needed a release and so she found herself on her knees, reaching into the chest for another taste of freedom.


End file.
